


Pivot.

by withoutwords



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny and Will never got to dance at the wedding. [set during the days/weeks post re-uniting]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pivot.

Will gets back tired and hurting and strung out, out of his mind and out of ideas. He doesn’t want to talk or work through things or spend another minute thinking about _what if_ and _will I_ and _can I_ and _no, please, no_. 

Sonny doesn’t say hello. He doesn’t ask how are you or what are you thinking or do you need space. He climbs out of bed and meets Will half way and they stand in the middle of the room with Sonny’s hand there and Will’s head there and quiet. Still. 

“Here,” Sonny says, taking Will’s hand and tangling it with his. “Here,” he says again, a hand around Will’s waist. Their feet kick-shuffle and their hearts tub-thump and it’s music, it must be.

“Are we dancing?” Will asks, his head buried in Sonny’s neck, the smell of sleep and musk and coffee bled deep into his skin. He scratches his nails against Sonny’s bare back and Sonny grips Will’s shirt in a fist.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Okay.”

Will follows Sonny’s lead, and he thinks that it’s funny, how they’ve been doing this for so long now, dancing. Around each other. Against each other. About each other. Always in circles and never getting anywhere and now here they are. In circles and no place they’d rather be.

Except.

“Will you take me to bed?” Will asks the crook of Sonny’s neck, feeling his breath skim down the length of Sonny’s spine, feeling Sonny shiver.

“Yes,” Sonny says, a rumble from his gut, the tip of his nose tracing patterns on Will’s cheek. Their feet push-press and their mouths are spit-slick-kissed and their knees hit the mattress, Will beneath.

“I want,” Will says, arching his hips, and Sonny says,

“Yeah,” in Will’s ear, just above a whisper. “I know all the steps to this dance.”


End file.
